


Lingering

by Patrice1599



Series: Lavender Fields [2]
Category: Cormoran Strike Series - Robert Galbraith
Genre: Blamethechampagne, F/M, Fluff, Pining
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-22
Updated: 2020-10-22
Packaged: 2021-03-09 00:40:23
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 836
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27145351
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Patrice1599/pseuds/Patrice1599
Summary: This story has burrowed into my subconscious and I just have to keep going.Part three of this series.Set following Troubled Blood.
Relationships: Robin Ellacott/Cormoran Strike
Series: Lavender Fields [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1980127
Comments: 8
Kudos: 28





	Lingering

Following a brisk but restorative shower, Robin sat down at her vanity to blow dry her hair. As the dryer whirred, she attempted to piece together her memories from the night before. She had a lingering discontentment that she was missing something significant. 

******  
She remembered walking confidently with Cormoran into the Rivoli Bar, everything gleaming gold and dark wood. That confidence was one of the things she admired most about him; he was sure of himself, but never cocky or condescending. She thought briefly of Matthew and his arrogance which had masqueraded as confidence. “That’s enough of that,” she said to herself, banishing Matthew from her thoughts as quickly as he had come. 

They were seated by a very brisk but polite hostess at a small table near the bar. Robin picked up the champagne menu to browse and was startled to see that the cheapest bottle of champagne was 98 pounds. 

“Cormoran, this is too much-” she began, her protest interrupted as a stern faced waiter approached. 

“We’ll have the Laurent-Perrier Rosé,” said Cormoran kindly, handing the menu back to the slightly disgruntled waiter who said "Yes, sir," and headed toward the bar. 

“You did that on purpose so I couldn’t see the charge,” she said, her expression incredulous. 

“Quite the detective these days Ellacott,” he said wryly. “I didn’t bring you here to worry about money, I brought you here to enjoy your birthday and that is what we are going to do,” he said with an air of finality.

Robin couldn’t think of an argument to that. She sighed and relaxed a little in her seat, looking around and taking in the atmosphere. The champagne arrived quickly, and she felt very elegant as they picked up their glasses and took a long look at each other. 

“To 30,” he said simply, lightly clinking his glass against hers. 

The partners drank and talked quietly, first of work and other comfortable subjects. As they began to relax they began to speak more freely. The champagne flowed, encouraging conversations they had never attempted before. They discussed their respective childhoods, the friends they had gained and lost. They moved easily into talks of dreams and wishes, fears and disappointments. 

It wasn’t until the check dropped between them that they realized how closely they were leaning toward each other. Cormoran sat quickly back and grabbed the check, whisking a sizable amount of cash into the leather envelope and handing it back to the surprised waiter before Robin realized what was happening. He stood to leave, reaching for Robin’s hand and pulling her to her feet. As he turned to exit, patting his pockets to make sure nothing had been left behind, Robin noticed the champagne cork on the table and without thinking, snuck it into her bag. 

She caught up with him as they exited the restaurant onto a noisy and crowded sidewalk. It was like an abrupt awakening from a happy dream, and Robin said, with no small amount of regret, “That was amazing.”

Strike nodded in agreement and rested his hand gently on the small of her back, in an attempt to guide her away from the large and boisterous crowd. 

“I’m usually not a big fan of champagne, but they have a good selection,” he said, navigating the pair expertly through the crowd. He glanced at his watch; It was only 8:00. 

“I’m feeling a bit peckish,” he said, dropping his arm as they broke free of the crowd. “Care to grab a bite? I think there’s a pub around here somewhere.”

“Sounds good to me,” said Robin with a grin, once again amazed at his encyclopedic knowledge of London’s pubs. 

******  
The remainder of the evening still felt very fuzzy. She vaguely remembered the pub, which had looked like every other pub in London. She knew they had eaten but what, she could not recall. She could remember many, many glasses of white wine. 

“It’s always the wine,” she grumbled to herself, frustrated that even at the ripe old age of 30, she still had quite a bit to learn. 

She couldn’t recall much of anything following the pub, with the exception of a very intimate and satisfying dream involving Cormoran. 

Robin dreamed of him often, much to her own chagrin. The dreams left her breathless and full of longing. She always felt guilty and embarrassed afterwards, as though he might know that she had been thinking of him just by looking at her. 

“It felt so real,” she thought, sighing gently. 

“Enough of that,” she said, shaking herself out of her reverie. She dressed quickly and turned her mind to the errands she intended to run that afternoon. She had another birthday dinner at a smart restaurant with the girls that evening and swore that she would not have a drop to drink, no matter how much they begged. 

As she stepped outside, locking the door behind her, Robin swore she could still feel the ghost of a kiss lingering on her lips.

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you all again for all of the kind words and enthusiasm :)


End file.
